


How He Heard My Heartbeats

by kailogan



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Appearances of Jungsoo the Loveable Uncle, Blind Character, Chronic Illness, Homophobia, Inspired By Jin's 너만 없다 (GONE) Music Video, M/M, Minor Character Death, Plant Lover! Kim Minseok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kailogan/pseuds/kailogan
Summary: Minseok finds his mother in the smell of fresh soil. He finds love in the smell of flowers.When he moves in with his uncle, a piano teacher who lives in the countryside, Minseok learns what love is. A love that isn't just stories told under the shade of Japanese maple trees. Instead, he learns of gummy smiles and hands held in dark corners and a voice that makes his head spin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Overture**

Choi Seongmi was a woman who took no chances. She married young and into a wealthy family. Her traditional beauty drawing the attention of Kim Myungso, the heir to a large business conglomerate based in Seoul. He was an upperclassman at her school in Jeju, his mother having moved him there when she became sick and her doctor requested she leave the smog of the city. Seongmi was a dreamer, often with her toes buried in the sand of the beaches surrounding the island, staring out to sea and thinking of boarding one of the ships that dotted the distance. Her mother told her to forget her thoughts of leaving the island, as few people ever did, preferring the comfort of what they'd always known.

“It’s so busy,” She complained, recounting her one visit to Seoul as a teenager. “Nobody knows anyone. You’d be all alone there. That city is full of nothing but people who have forgotten the beauty of earth, living in those _concrete jungles_ of theirs.”

Seongmi wasn't in the habit of listening to her mother. So, when she heard whispers of Myungso’s wealth and promising future, she was more than happy to accept his advances. The other village girls would often gossip, Seongmi catching the whispers calling her _Changnyeo_ when she passed. She paid it no mind, she rejected the idea that she was being ‘bought’ when she was the one who benefited most from the arrangement.

Under the acid green leaves of midsummer, Myungso proposed. It was a few days before he was due to return to Seoul to attend Business School. Salt stung at Seongmi’s nostrils as she breathed in deeply, before smiling and accepting. Her clothes stuck to her skin under the heat of the sun as the two shared a deep kiss, their first.

Seongmi lived comfortably in Seoul. She went into town to check the newest boutiques and sample food from the most acclaimed restaurants. Samgyeopsal and Gogigui that refined her tastes. Her upper society friends are two-faced and too-loud for her but, despite this, Seongmi was more than content.

The Kim Estate had an extensive garden on the edge of the city where Seongmi would frequently sit, practising pansori songs from her childhood and reading. Whenever his work would allow, Myungso would join her, head in her lap, eyes closed whilst she sang. The flowers of the garden were maintained by several of the house staff, siberian rose with patches of moth orchid that caused the air to be tinged with sweetness and sticky pollen.

**xoxo**

In the following years, Seongmi gave birth to three children, all boys. Myungso was delighted and Seongmi was content, wishing only that she could have had at least one girl. She hoped her children wouldn't feel they had to compete against one another.

Both her eldest sons, Minki and Minwoo, were model students and more than happy to follow in their father’s footsteps, working for the company. Her pride and joy, however, came in the form of her youngest son, Minseok.

Unlike his brothers, Minseok had not inherited his father’s soft features and ambitious spirit, instead he was born with sharp, cat-like eyes and a wicked smile, lithe-limbed and nothing but trouble. He was born with pale, near translucent skin and a weak disposition.

Seongmi adored him.

Due to his health, Minseok spent most of his time in the gardens with his mother, rarely being allowed to leave the house grounds. He was often restless and Seongmi occupied him best she could with stories from the old days, rocking him to sleep with her favorite pansori songs. Sometimes, the child would stand and act out her words, his face mimicking the bravery of the hero and his arm swinging a lofty sword. His brightness never failed to make her laugh.

Over the years, Minseok brought even more beauty to the flower beds and wide lawns of the estate. He loved colour and sweetness, requesting that the garden staff plant a rainbow of flowers, a purple maple with wide branches that bore crimson leaves and cover the fences with creepers. The previous deep scent of rose and orchid, now coloured with box-leaf honeysuckle.

**xoxo**

“Eomma! Eomma!” Seongmi followed the insistent voice to discover her son, his hand tangled in ivy vines.

“Yah! What’s this, Minseok-ah?” She tried to sound accusing but she suspected the laughter in her tone undermined her words. She watched him struggle for a moment before taking pity and helping him escape the emerald beast. Minseok smiled happily once he was freed, quickly embracing his mother.

“Why were you caught in the first place, Minseokkie?” She asked curiously.

“Attacked me…” Minseok muttered, causing Seongmi to pull back to look him in the eyes, chastising him silently. He sighed, looking at his feet.

“I was trying to climb it.” He finally admitted. “So I could see outside.”

Seongmi tutted and tilted Minseok’s head back up.

“You know the doctor said you had to stay inside the grounds, where we can keep an eye on you.” Minseok nodded. “It’s for your safety.” This made him frown bitterly and Seongmi sighed, taking his small hand and inspecting the small scratches across his slender fingers.

“You’ll be able to leave soon, okay?” Minseok immediately brightened.

“Really?”

“Yah, don’t sound too happy! You’re not really that eager to leave me all alone, are you?” Seongmi exclaimed, hand over her heart in feigned offence. She fell backwards across the grass, a picture of martyrdom.

“You’re silly!” Minseok giggled, joining her on the lawn, burying his face in her chest.

The two laid together like that until the clear blue of the sky was honeyed with the sunset.

“Never leave you alone.” Minseok whispered.

**xoxo**

Minseok never broke that promise and yet, that was how he ended up. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i can't believe I'm writing this


	2. Chapter 2

**Act One**

It’s surprising how quickly things can change. One day, Minseok had slept in a house he knew like the back of his hand. He woke up to the smell of roses, honeysuckle and orchid drifting in through his open window. The next moment, Minseok was in an unfamiliar place where the sounds and smells were completely alien.

**xoxo**

“I’ve been instructed to help you pack your things.”

Minseok was still struggling to process the implication of the words spoken by the maid, when she pulled open his suitcase and began folding his clothes.

“What?” He demanded, confusion thick in his voice. His throat stung a little when he spoke, croaky with the recent disuse. His first thought was to shoo her away, seeing her hands begin to lay waste to his impeccable wardrobe organisation.

The maid seemed not to hear him as she pulled out more clothing from his drawers, placing them into the suitcase hurriedly. Minseok, coming to his senses, moved to take hold of her wrist and halt her actions.

“Wait! Why are you packing my clothes away, am I going somewhere?”

Once again she ignored him, timidly pulling out of his grip to continue with her work. Minseok did not pride himself on his patience and gave up on talking to the woman, leaving his room in search of his father.

**xoxo**

The Kim household was largely quiet these days, the previous music and raised voices having long faded. Minseok didn’t leave his room very often, his loud, excitable humming  snuffed out and replaced by the sharp footsteps and hushed gossip of the house staff. Minseok flinched slightly as he descended the stairs, the quiet sinking into his skin like knives.

The door to Minseok’s father’s study had always felt more like a wall to the young boy. Almost always closed, it stood tall, dark oak and hard brass. Minseok hesitated, looking up at the imposing wooden fitting, the barrier between him and the other man. He steeled himself, setting his jaw before turning the handle and entering the room.

**xoxo**

Myungso was not a cruel man, rather, a sad one. He understood very little beyond that of good manners and hard work, meaning he understood nothing of his youngest son. Minseok had suitable manners and was by no means lazy but, he was far from dedicated (excluding that of his dedication to neatness). Myungso had seen him rarely during the boy’s childhood and hadn't ever felt the need to spend time with him, always busy with more important things. His desire to teach his children and ready them to take over the company after his passing already having been satiated by his two eldest sons. Besides, his wife had always occupied the boy.

Now, he had found himself at a loss of what to do with the him.

**xoxo**

“Appa-ssi.” He bowed low as he greeted, barely moving past the doorway. When he rose he saw his father stood beside his desk, papers in hand and thin-rimmed glasses firmly on the tip of his nose.

“Minseok-ah, I take it you have been informed of my decision?” Myungso dropped the papers to the desk with a startlingly finality, his words spoken with such assuredness that it was as if he read them from carved stone. As was often the case when talking to his father, Minseok found himself at a complete loss for for words.

Myungso looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to reply.

“I, uh...No, Appa, I haven’t.” Minseok withered a little under his father’s gaze before continuing. “I was told only that I should pack.”

“Ah, I see.” Minseok watched as his father sat at his desk and gestured toward the seat on the opposite side, instructing him to sit also.

This was one of only a handful of times that Minseok had been sat in this office. The others all having taken place moments after he had broken something. So the situation did not bode well.

“Minseok, I’ve decided that it’s best you leave home. You’ve scarcely been out or had the chance to meet anyone you’re own age and-”

“I get to go out?!” Minseok interrupted, his eyes wide. He had only been able to leave the house and the estate grounds twice in his life, only when the doctor had deemed him stable enough. His heart began hammering with excitement. Actually, no, it was just hammering. Frantically, he reached into his pocket to pull out a small breath mint tin, popping a white capsule into his mouth. His father seemed to barely notice the action, sorting through some of his papers again and ignoring Minseok’s outburst.

“-I think something new is what you need right now. Besides, I can’t be here all the time and there’s nothing to entertain you.” Myungso looked up at him, eyes hopeful. (Minseok refrained from mentioning that he had nothing to entertain him, regardless of whether his father was home or not.)

“I asked Dr. Park if you would be able to and he seemed confident in your health, do you agree?” Minseok nodded in response, fingers tapping against his thighs. Myungso raised his eyebrow and Minseok quickly found his voice.

“Yes! I mean, yes, I agree.” Myungso made an approving noise.

“I called your uncle and he said he was welcome to you staying with him for a time. He teaches music in the country, lots of people coming and going, gives you the chance to meet some people and maybe you can even learn from him, you still like to sing, don’t you?” Myungso spoke quickly, almost rambling. He rarely showed it but, he often felt exceedingly nervous when faced with his youngest son, the boy staring at him with his wide, slanted eyes. They were the same eyes he had always been so used to waking up to.

Minseok nodded again, choosing not to tell his father he hadn't sung in years.

**xoxo**

It took the next few days to get all of Minseok’s possessions packed up, two large men helping lift the piano (a large, ornate grande that his grandmother had bought for his sixteenth birthday, three years ago) into the van, along with three suitcases of clothes, a trunk filled with miscellaneous items and vacuum-packed bags holding his favourite blankets. They’d been the busiest days that Minseok had had in some time, having become used to doing nothing but lazing around his bedroom and wandering the gardens.

He went out to his favourite part of the estate when it came time to leave, a small clearing between two weeping elms and hidden by a thick wall of bamboo. It was mid summer, the ground covered with lavender showers in full bloom. Minseok stood there for a few long moments, looking around at the colourful flora, hoping to commit every colour and smell to his memory.

He saw his mother’s long hair in the swathes of temple grass, the knots of her knuckles in the twists of the elm’s branches and the hue of her smile in the drops of sunlight that fell through the canopy of leaves. An overwhelming softness, the sound of her laughter hung in the air when the breeze pressed against the bamboo stalks.

Minseok found himself wishing, for more than a brief moment, that he wasn't leaving.

**xoxo**

Minseok’s uncle was a tall man with a misleading face, hard eyes and pursed lips, his skin riddled with the wrinkles you can only get from smiling. Kim Jungsoo wore old-fashioned, thick-rimmed spectacles and his thin-frame was swamped in tweed, three-piece suits. Minseok had met him a small number of times, at funerals and birthdays, although they’d never spoken.

Despite his bright personality, he had always been shy during social events with his family, which meant he had conversed minimally with most of his relatives. The situation was not helped by the way his aunts, uncles and cousins avoided him, giving him a wide berth as he passed. He imagined it was due to his sickly pallor and pained expression (one he only wore to convince them to keep their distance). Minseok was a walking contradiction sometimes, so excited by new experiences and still terrified of the unknown.  

**xoxo**

It was a three hour journey from Seoul to Minseok’s uncle’s home, outside Namyangyu. Minseok slept through most of it, having not rested much the previous night. He was awoken by the driver when they drew close to the house.

It was huge. Minseok was no stranger to luxury but he had never seen a house like this before (which wasn't actually saying much due to his reclusive childhood having restricted his viewing of houses other than his own). Standing at three-stories, the walls were all pale sandstone, largely smooth but marred by subtle chips and marks, denoting the passage of time. Victorian (Georgian? Minseok was no expert in western architecture) in style, with large windows, the house looked imposing and unfamiliar to Minseok. Being unfamiliar with his surroundings was not a feeling that Minseok encountered often and it made his chest feel tight.

He reached into his pocket to pull out his tin.

When the car drew up to the doorway, Jungsoo was stood on the house steps, ready to greet him.

“Hello, it’s good to meet you, Samchon.” Minseok spoke in greeting, head lowered, a little nervous in the face of the man he was to live with.

“Aish, don’t be silly! Please, call me ‘Ahjussi’.” His uncle admonished, chuckling and allowing his smile to light up his, previously, stern face. The warmth in the man’s voice caused Minseok’s mouth to fall open in shock. Jungsoo seemed to notice and looked amused. Turning to his side, he gestured toward the house’s open doors, inviting the boy in.

Minseok kept his head bowed as he walked through the doors into a large foyer. Inside the room, a large staircase stood, leading to the upper floors. The walls were panelled with dark wood and the doors leading to other rooms were wide with ornate, brass handles.

“Over there’s the music and study rooms,” Jungsoo said, gesturing to the double doors on the left wall, “The kitchen and dining room are the other side and upstairs are mostly bedrooms and storage. Students used to use this house for boarding but it’s just me now. They’ll be a couple students and teachers using the rooms during the day when class starts up, that won’t be a problem will it?”.

Minseok shook his head and took note of the information, building a mental map of the house’s rooms as he followed his uncle up the lavish staircase. Behind him, he noted his driver and the men from the moving company finish unloading his luggage (except the piano of course). Jungsoo lead him down two long corridors that were lined with doors, almost ebony in the low light and mysterious. The lush carpet made swishing sounds in time with his steps and it made Minseok wish he had taken off his shoes.

He stops in front of a door at the end of the second hallway. It was the only door that had been painted, green gloss glinting messily, as if it had been recently and frantically applied. Jungsoo opened the door to reveal a room filled with light and sweet smells. Stepping in, Minseok screws his eyes up at the brightness of the bay windows, spilling in thick streams of sunlight that flood the floor with beams of gold. The walls are lined with potted plants, thick walls of leaf and petal that made the space seem more like a greenhouse than a bedroom.

“I heard you liked plants so…” Jungsoo’s voice was slightly nervous and Minseok struggled not to laugh. He was touched by the effort, despite the incredulity of the situation.

“Thank you, Adjussi. I love them,” Minseok took care to keep his speech polite and grateful, restraining himself from raising his voice with excitement.

The more Minseok looked around the room, the more plants he saw. In three of the corners were tall bonsais, one nearly touching ceiling, the pots a couple feet in diameter. Two shelving units (possibly repurposed bookshelves) were home to row upon row of small flowers and succulents. Minseok took note of the particularly beautiful moth orchid on the second row of the unit closest to the bed. It was pale, beautiful with the most subtle spots of pink amongst the white.

Looking back at his uncle, he saw the man’s expression still looked slightly unsure. He caught the man’s eyes with his own and smiled. Jungsoo smiled back.

**xoxo**

It took a few weeks for Minseok to get used to his new home. He expected it to be easier but, living in the same place for so long had given him some habits that were hard to break. He woke up too often with his face pressed against the wall because his old bed had been flipped the opposite way. He had bruises on his hips from where he bumped against the corner of the small table that stood in the one of the downstairs hallways that lead to the kitchen (his clumsiness had nearly broken the vase that sat on it every time he passed). Getting used to the different smells and sounds of the house was a mission in itself. It was so easy to take for granted how a place smelt, how the honeysuckle in the air had always made him smile and how much he missed the calm air between the weeping elms and the bamboo.

**xoxo**

Despite missing his childhood home and feeling slightly overwhelmed by his uncle’s house, he didn’t dislike it. Jungsoo was an incredibly kind man and easier to talk to, much easier than talking to Minseok’s father in any case. He hadn’t quite realised how much he missed having a good conversation with someone, it had been a while.

Minseok thought back to all the nights he had spent sat with Jungsoo in one of the smaller practise rooms, the place he had decided was best for Minseok’s piano. The space was similar to a study, two comfortable sofas and a desk in the corner. Everything in Jungsoo’s house had the style and feel of the old English homes that Minseok had seen in movies. Jungsoo would encourage him to tell him of childhood, the stories that spun in his head, many about his mother.

“A fantastic woman, that’s for sure,” He would exclaim, chuckling along with Minseok as they discussed her charms.

“Oh, did you know her well, Adjussi?” Minseok asked. He didn’t remember seeing Jungsoo often when he was young and was curious about the way the man spoke about his mother, eyes sad and nostalgic. Jungsoo cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortably with the question.

“I, uh, yes, I did...” He looked down into his lap, long fingers tainted with musician’s callouses fumbling there.

He didn’t look like he wanted to continue so Minseok changed the subject, instead asking about Jungsoo’s teaching. Minseok nearly laughed at the speed at which his uncle lit up, eyes bright and toothy smile, when he talked about his students.

“Teaching is just so rewarding, Minseok-ah. My students are so amazing, I’m always just so inspired by them. I hope the coming and going won’t bother you, we deal with a lot of special needs students and the hours they have available can be at strange times, please, don’t let it disturb you.”

**xoxo**

It did disturb Minseok in the end. It disturbed him a great deal.

Minseok was an introvert (he disliked the term “homebody” due to the literal meaning it had in his life) and the process of meeting and greeting strangers was something he was still unused to. He was excited at first, to actually meet some people closer to his age but, the anxiety quickly overwhelmed any enthusiasm he may have had.

His first encounter with some of the visitors to the house, took place a little over a month after he moved in. The students had started their lessons the previous week and Minseok had managed to avoid them, spending most of the day in his bedroom, tending to his plants. It was a Sunday and Minseok had been wanting start a new composition for the couple of days now. Hoping that no lessons would be taking place since it was the weekend, Minseok braved the stairs and headed down to the room where his piano was kept.

No one seemed to be around, the house ringing with unusual silence. He breathed a sigh of relief, closing the music room door quietly.

Playing here felt so different from playing at Minseok’s home. There, the notes floated somber, melancholy and heavy, clogging up the air and making it hard for Minseok to breathe. In this warm practise room, framed newspaper clippings and academic accolades lining the walls, music felt alive again. The trills and thick chords that rang out from his skilled fingers becoming a blanket of honeyed noise, sound sinking into his bones like deep heat. Flowers burst into bloom, syrup soaked his lips and jasmine stuck to his nostrils. Closing his eyes, he played small melodies, drifting in and out of different pieces.

“Summer was too long!”

Minseok’s eyes snapped open, hands stilling on the piano.

“My family made me work at the office the whole time, I swear, I barely got a second to practise,” the voice was deep, rumbling through the room even from the hallway. Minseok cursed under his breath as a second voice joined the first, closer now.

“Don’t even say that to me!” sounding outraged, “My mother made me do three hours of vocal training every-goddamn-day!” the second replied. The voices were outside the room now and Minseok was about to relax, thinking they had passed, when the door swung open.

“Whatever, you love vocal training- Oh! Sorry,” a tall boy with long limbs and an infectious looking smile entered the room, low voice identifying him as the first speaker Minseok had heard. He bowed his head low in apology and greeting. The other boy was a lot shorter, also smiling but with his left cheek scrunched up so it became more like a smirk. He didn’t bow or apologise, looking Minseok up an down. Minseok tried not to flinch at the appraisal.

“No need to apologise,” Minseok replied, after a few long moments of silence where he tried to rapidly collect his manners, “I was just finishing up anyway.” he said. This was a lie, he had only just been gettting started, warming up so he could actually start putting the lines of music in his head down onto paper and keys. He bowed quickly, hoping he would be able to escape without introduction but the two boys were stood blocking the doorway.

“Still, we know how it is to be interrupted when you’re playing. We didn’t expect anyone to be here on the weekends but us,” the tall boy laughed loudly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Minseok couldn’t think of how he should respond to that, luckily the shorter of the two spoke before he needed to.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun,” he held out a hand, seemingly excited by meeting a new person. Minseok ignored the hand, shying away from the physical contact.

“Kim Minseok,” he spoke quietly and hoped neither of the two noticed his discomfort.

“Are you new?” Baekhyun asked, dropping his hand carelessly, unfazed by Minseok refusing to shake it. “We haven’t seen you around before and we spend practically all our time here. You a piano student? Sounded good,” he spoke almost too quickly for Minseok to keep up.

Minseok lamented that this conversation clearly wasn’t going to end soon. He felt uncomfortable under the gaze of the two boys, with their pretty smiles and wide, double-lidded eyes. He wondered briefly, if most people his age also had such attractive faces. Before now, the only non-adults he had ever met were his brothers and cousins.

“Was that you playing before? I thought it must have been on of the professors,” the other boy added, sounding impressed. Minseok felt his ears heat with the praise, it had been a while since anyone had given him compliments.

“Thank you,” Minseok said when he finally found his voice. “I’m not a student, my uncle teaches here and I’m staying with him,” his heart was thudding against his ribcage and he pulled out his tin, happy to have something to occupy his hands.

“Ah, well I’m Chanyeol, it’s good to meet you Kim-ssi, sorry to interrupt once again.” Chanyeol bowed his head and made to back out of the room. Despite his expressive voice and hyperactive limbs, foot tapping the floor for the last minute, Chanyeol seemed to at least have acceptable manners. Minseok wasn’t sure he could say the same for Baekhyun, who was still stood in the doorway, arms crossed and smirk deeply in place.

Minseok shook his head,

“It’s nothing, I was just finishing, like I said, please, feel free to use the room.” he gestured back toward the piano and the guitars on the walls, stepping close to the door in hopes it would spur the two to move.

Chanyeol looked delighted, only saying a quick _thank you_ before rushing in and grabbing a full-size acoustic. Baekhyun, however, did not move, looking a Minseok for several seconds. He smiled then, fully this time, seeming to have come to a positive conclusion in his examination of Minseok.

“Thanks, it was nice meeting you, Minseok-ah.” Baekhyun pushed at his shoulder playfully as he followed Chanyeol to sit on a stool beside the taller boy, who was now beginning to pick out a melody on the strings of the guitar in his hands. He definitely had worse manners than his friend.

Minseok wanted, briefly, to tell Baekhyun that he had disrespected Minseok, knowing for a fact that the boy must be younger than himself. His uncle had told him already, that the oldest students that took classes here, were eighteen. Minseok, despite his youthful face and baby-fat, was already approaching twenty.

In the end, A little more confident now, Minseok settled on replying,

“It was good to meet you too, Baekhyunnie,” with a smug smile.

As Minseok closed the door behind himself and began trekking back toward the stairs, he heard a third voice, muffled from behind the room three doors down. The person was singing, loudly, piano playing under the voice but practically drowned out by falsettos. He wanted to keep walking, head up the stairs and back to his room. Somehow though, he found his body turning and walking back past Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s room, to stop outside where he heard the voice.

The door to this music room had a window, possibly accounting for the volume of the music Minseok heard. Through the window, Minseok saw a boy sat a piano. He was facing the door and Minseok ducked down instinctively, not wanting to be caught watching. Thankfully, the boy’s eyes were closed.

With his black hair, parted slightly to one side and swept back, he looked like nothing out of the ordinary really. His eyebrows were thick and dark, skin clear and cheekbones impossibly sharp. Minseok, of course, knew that the boy was attractive but, when he sang, he became something else entirely. The words dripped, no, soared from his mouth as if each syllable had its own wings, ducking and diving through the air to land on Minseok’s shoulder and sell their sweetness to his ears. _I leave the darkness that finds my heart, even the cold shadow that covers the night starts to harden._ His heart thundered, lungs crackling, but he knew he didn’t need to reach for the tin in his pocket. The boy looked more than a little ethereal and Minseok wasn’t sure if he was breathing properly. He wasn’t sure if he cared. Minseok knew he should leave, that he probably looked like some sort of pervert, crouching slightly in the hallway and peering through the window. Minseok didn’t recognise the song that the boy was singing but it was catchy and a little familiar, most likely an idol song that Minseok could have heard on the radio. _If the ice melts, a warmer song would have come out._ For the first time in a while, Minseok felt like singing too, opening his mouth to allow his mediocre voice join that of the angel he was watching. The song came to its end with a satisfying series of notes and the boy’s voice pitched breathy and low on the english lyric. _Why are they so cold._

The boy opened his eyes and Minseok nearly lost his footing with the speed that he ducked down to get out of sight. His heart was in his throat and the need to breathe had returned, throat haggard. With shaking hands, he fumbled for his mint tin, downing one quickly and pressing his palm to his aching chest. His heart slowed and the sweat on the back of his neck dried up as the seconds passed.

The silence dragged on, only the quiet hints of music from Chanyeol and Baekhyun now colouring the air. Minseok took the absence of the boy’s voice to mean he had most likely seen Minseok and could be approaching the door at that very moment. He shook his head to clear it, straightening and walking away, careful to avoid any of the floorboards that he knew creaked.

It wasn’t until Minseok was back in his bedroom that he thought about how the boy’s eyes had looked, meeting his own.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goodness well i wanted this to be longer so that the story would be even split between each part but i couldn't resist ending it here. i've been working on this for months and i did soooo much research into asian botanics and honorifics but I'm sure it's all inaccurate as fuck. anyway enjoy an edgy minseok, his lovely uncle, the delightfully annoying chanbaek and the mysterious boy with the pretty voice. 
> 
> the song heard in the last section is akmu's 'melted'


	3. Act Two, Part One

It became something of a routine, Minseok waking early every saturday morning and walking downstairs on tiptoes to practise.

He let his hands trail the keys, up and down the octaves, running through his scales and favourite Chopin pieces. Slowly, as the sun rose, the room would fill with sunlight, bird song joining the cacophony his fingers would cause.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun would usually arrive sometime before midday and for the first couple weeks, Minseok would leave them to it. Somehow though, as time passed, the two had cajoled him into staying and listening to them play. Baekhyun, it turned out, had an incredible voice, well trained and clear. It paired well the with soothing, soft quality of Chanyeol’s and, despite Chanyeol’s probing questions and Baekhyun’s rudeness, Minseok had come to care for the harmonies they created together.

Although, they still couldn’t compare to the voice Minseok sometimes heard as he walked back upstairs, or the eyes that travelled with it.

**xoxo**

“Do you play anything else? Other than piano, I mean,” Chanyeol was laid out on the sofa with his head in Baekhyun’s lap, the boy’s slim fingers carding through Chanyeol’s hair.

Minseok shook his head and smiled at the two. He had been doing that a lot more recently. It been three months since their first encounter and Minseok was struck with how fond he had become of, not just the two boys but, everything about this place. Jungsoo and the house staff, the professors and students he sometimes saw during weekdays. Most especially, the gardens.

When Minseok had first arrived, he had thought that the grounds were just wide, stretching fields of grass, bracketed by a handful of trees on the edge of the property. He had since learned that wasn’t the case.

“Not even singing, c’mon, Minseokkie, everyone can sing,” Baekhyun was still addressing Minseok as his younger and honestly, it just felt too late to correct him at this point.

Minseok shook his head again,

“I don’t sing, not that I can’t, just don’t,” he shrugged, hoping that they would drop the issue. He should have known this was a hopeless wish.

“Minseok-ah! I bet you have a pretty voice! What with that face and all,” Minseok wasn’t sure what having a pretty face had to do with singing, “and we’re your friends, we should get to hear you sing!” Baekhyun exclaimed.

Minseok had a sneaking suspicion that Baekhyun didn’t have many friends that weren’t Chanyeol. The boy had a voice that was always either too loud or too smug and he didn’t really have any concept of personal boundaries, or space. Three months ago, Minseok had flinched at the idea of even shaking the other boy’s hand. Now, he had uncountable number of shoulder punches, high-fives and brief hugs under his belt, he couldn’t really say that he disliked it. Chanyeol was a damn good hugger and Baekhyun’s arm felt nice around his shoulder. Minseok realised that people must overlook friendship a lot but, considering he had never had the chance to properly experience it before now, he knew that it should be given more credit.

“Shuddup Baek, if he doesn’t want to sing then he doesn’t have to,” Chanyeol looked at Minseok with that look that said _I’m so sorry about him_ and Minseok had to make a conscious effort to hold in his laughter. It was clear that Chanyeol had a lot of practise in apologising for the actions of Byun Baekhyun.

“When did _you_ start singing?” Minseok directed the question at Baekhyun, knowing that getting the other talking about himself would be the quickest and easiest way to change the subject.

Baekhyun launched into a complete history of his interest in music, which started when he was in his early childhood. Chanyeol interjected at several points. The two had grown up together, their parents being business associates. Minseok liked listening to them talk about their past, playing outside together and going to school. Chanyeol didn’t seem to relish the memories of highschool, shifting in his seat when Baekhyun discussed it.

“-My choirmaster recommended I take professional vocal lessons, that’s how I ended up here,” Baekhyun was scratching Chanyeol’s head, probably messing his hair up terribly. Chanyeol didn’t seem to mind, leaning into the touch and humming contentedly. Minseok wondered, not for the first time, if friends usually touched each other like this.

Minseok didn’t think he minded, either way.

**xoxo**

“May I come in?” There was a knock at the door, before it opened to reveal a sheepish looking Jungsoo.

Minseok loved how Jungsoo looked, so often, flustered and unsure of himself in his own home. It was a trait that Minseok didn’t usually associate with adults. He especially didn’t associate it with adult men like his father. Minseok found it endlessly endearing.

“Of course,” Minseok assured, standing up straight from his position on his knees, repotting one of the smaller succulents. “Is there a problem of any kind, Adjussi?” still struggling with speaking casually the way Jungsoo continuously insisted upon, Minseok asked the question politely.

“No, no, I just wanted to see how you’ve been doing? I haven’t seen you as much during meals since term started,” Jungsoo was rubbing the back of his neck, guiltily. “I guess I wanted to apologise for not being the most attentive as of late, I don’t want you to be bored here,” Jungsoo explained.

Minseok was touched by his uncle’s words. It always came as a shock to him that this man, whom he had known for such a short time, could care about him this much. He found it hard to believe, sometimes, that this was his father’s brother. Although, he guessed that he and his own brothers didn’t have much in common either.

“I’ve been doing well,” Minseok gestured to the chair tucked under his desk, “Would you like to sit? I just need to finish with this succulent.”

“What is it?” Jungsoo asked as he sat and Minseok knelt again to pull the plant from it’s small pot. Minseok looked at his uncle, one eyebrow raised curiously. Jungsoo laughed,

“Oh, yes, well I just picked up whatever I could find when buying these, I’m not really well versed on horticulture.”

“It’s an Echeveria, most likely Fire Pillar,” Minseok explained as he packed soil around the plant in the new, larger pot. With scarlett outlines, the succulent had green leaves that appeared thick and bulbous. “It’s quite a rare hybrid actually, I’m surprised you managed to get one,” Minseok chuckled. Jungsoo hummed in response and the conversation lulled as Minseok placed the plant back on it’s shelf, taking off his gloves and dropping them into the, now empty, pot.

“Your mother used to tell me about the plants she grew up around, on Jeju Island,” Jungsoo broke the silence once Minseok had settled on the edge of his bed to face the man.

“Oh?” Minseok was surprised, his mother hadn’t spoken about her childhood much with him. Whenever he asked, she would just say that her happiest memories were of Seoul. Despite this, Minseok thought that he would like Jeju, beautiful and isolated and alone but never lonely.

“Have you ever been to Jeju, Adjussi?” Minseok asked.

“Once, when I was young, you know your father studied there and I visited him before he graduated,” hand supporting his head as he leant against the desk, Jungsoo fixed Minseok with a considering gaze, “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never been, I wondered what it’s like, Eomma never told me,” Jungsoo took several moments to consider this.

“It’s…beautiful,” Jungsoo settled on the word slowly. Minseok studied the man’s face and the look in his eyes told him that he wasn’t really describing the island at all.

**xoxo**

It wasn’t that Minseok was a stalker. There was just something about the boy that made Minseok drop whatever he was doing and follow him. It wasn’t like Minseok had a written out schedule of when he was usually in the practise room. Minseok just had a good memory.

 _Why don’t you just talk to him?_ He asked himself mentally whenever he was leant against the corridor wall listening to the boy sing (an activity he, coincidentally, found himself doing every saturday and sunday afternoon). Minseok couldn’t understand why the idea of introducing himself to the boy made him feel queasy and nervous. He theorised that it must be due to the boy’s talent, making Minseok feel a little starstruck at the idea of speaking to him.

Minseok refrained from watching him through the window after the first time, too afraid of being caught. Instead, he contented himself with just listening to the honeyed voice. After all, the boy’s voice was what Minseok found interesting about him, not his face. Why would it be his face? Minseok could barely even remember the boy’s black hair and dark eyes, sharp jawline and lips bracketed with wrinkles that came from smiling.

Minseok was simply impressed by his voice. That was all.

**xoxo**

Baekhyun flopped onto the sofa with a disgruntled groan.

The boy had just stormed into the music room, slamming the door open and muttering obscenities under his breath. Minseok had expected Chanyeol to enter after him. The doorway remained empty. He gave Baekhyun a questioning look, in response to which, Baekhyun had fallen forward and began mumbling into the pillows.

“Are you…?” Minseok didn’t know how to finish the question. His first thought being to ask if Baekhyun was feeling okay, but he felt silly asking a question that already had a clear answer. The boy on the sofa moaned pitifully. Minseok decided to wait until Baekhyun was ready to talk, as it was he knew that Baekhyun didn’t enjoy silence that lasted more than three whole seconds.

As expected, a few moments later, Baekhyun sat up abruptly.

“It isn’t fair! Simply just ridiculous and unjust, I mean, does no one know the value of loyalty these days! Of honour!” Minseok couldn’t help but be taken aback by the outburst. Red and scrunched with lines of outraged, Baekhyun’s face looked twisted and strange. A stranger might have called it an expression of anger. Minseok, however, saw the sadness behind his eyes and the confusion between his trembling lips.

Minseok had never been very good at consoling people, emotions could often confuse him and he found it difficult to understand most people's reactions to them. He wasn’t exactly insensitive, just...sheltered. Now, with a Baekhyun that looked close to tears, Minseok found himself surprised by the knowledge that he, not only wanted to help, but also thought he might know how. Baekhyun was a talker and Minseok could certainly listen.

It took all of three seconds before Baekhyun spoke again.

“He keeps saying I’m over-reacting,” He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling, voice quieter now, more resigned.

“Who?” Minseok asked, gently. Baekhyun let out a deep sigh before answering,

“Chanyeol,” to which Minseok just nodded. He was still confused about why Baekhyun was so hurt but it made sense that this was about the taller boy. Minseok may only have known the two for a few months but it wasn’t exactly hard to see just how much they meant to each other.

Minseok waited again. This time, however, it seemed Baekhyun didn’t know what to say.

“What happened?” asked Minseok, reaching over to place his hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder in comfort. Baekhyun leaned into the touch.

The sun was shining into the room, thick beams coming through the windows and pooling the floor in patches of pale yellow. Minseok shifted uncomfortably, realising how hot the room was becoming as time passed.

“Chanyeol picked Kim Jongdae as his partner for our end of term performance exam,” Baekhyun said it with a voice that had the finality and dejectedness of anyone else saying _my darling love just burned to death in a fire that I caused_.

“Who’s Jongdae?” Minseok did his best not to smile at Baekhyun’s melodramatic tone.

“A friend-stealer!”

“Well of course,” Minseok couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice this time and Baekhyun fixed him with a scandalised look.

“Are you mocking me!?”

“Absolutely not,” Baekhyun didn’t seem convinced.

“You’re a terrible friend, Minseok-ah!”

“It’s Hyung, actually,” Minseok said and Baekhyun did a double take.

“What?”

“Hyung,” Minseok repeated. “I’m older than you,” Baekhyun’s jaw was dropped.

“How old are you?” he demanded.

“I’m nineteen,” Minseok felt a little smug, being able to distract Baekhyun from his misery so easily.

“You’re…” Baekhyun floundered. “But, you look so...not nineteen,” he didn’t seem convinced.

“Tell that to the year 1990,” Minseok laughed. “When I was born,”

Baekhyun had the appearance of a man befuddled, as if the truth of Minseok’s age was as ridiculous an idea as pigs flying. He was wide-eyed.

“Truly, I am friendless,” Baekhyun lamented, “First, Chanyeol leaves me for stupid Jongdae and now you, not even telling me I’ve been disrespecting you all this time.” he wailed. “In this life you can only look out for yourself, no one else will ever care!” throwing himself back against the couch and shying away from Minseok, Baekhyun looked rather pitiful.

“Why does it matter so much who Chanyeol does the performance with? He’s still your friend, Baekhyunnie,” Minseok tried to reason. Baekhyun just groaned.

“We always do the performance together and he’s my-” he says it in a rush, words almost melting together before he cuts himself off. Silence. “He’s my best friend,” he clarifies. Minseok had a strong suspicion that wasn’t what he was going to say.

“Maybe you should tell him, if it really hurts this much that he’s doing it with someone else,” Minseok suggests.

“I tried and he just ignored me,” Baekhyun scoffed, “As if Jongdae’s even that good, Chanyeol said he’s only picking him because he has a wider range than me, which is totally unfair and insulting,” he frowned deeply.

“I see,” Minseok was unsure how to respond to this. It seemed, to him, that Baekhyun was overreacting a little but it wasn’t really fair of Chanyeol to be so dismissive either. “I mean I could maybe talk to him for you if you want but-”

“THANK YOU!” Baekhyun practically screamed, throwing his arms around Minseok joyously. “You’re a lifesaver Min...Hyung.” he corrected himself, smiling shyly as he pulled away.

Minseok was already beginning to regret his offer but, Baekhyun was smiling again and that was something.

**xoxo**

Behind the house and beyond the stretch of the neatly kept lawn, was doorway cut from pale stone. There was rubble of varying size set on either side, signalling the building that must have once stood there. Trees surrounded the structure, ivy twisted around it and branches stretching across the opening, sealing it up. It had been in Minseok’s second week at the estate when he had ventured out into grounds and found the place. Since, he had been visiting and exploring further into the small woodland each time.

Whilst there wasn’t the same familiar sweetness as at home, the small clearings and thickets of the woodland reminded him of his gardens. His mother’s gardens.

After promising Baekhyun he’d speak to Chanyeol, Minseok had been understandably stressed and decided to take a walk as he often did. Stepping out into the grounds later that day, after he had lurked in the corridor hoping to see the boy for much longer than could be considered casual loitering, Minseok let out a breath. His hands were shaking a little and he hurried to retrieve the tin he always kept in his pocket. He hadn’t wanted to take it out in front of Baekhyun and his chest had felt tight ever since the boy had entered the room angrily.

It was getting colder now, summer fading and autumn taking full effect. Crackling underfoot, the lawns were coated in leaves spanning from deep crimson to pale yellow, blown from their branches in the morning wind.

Once behind the archway, fully enclosed in the walls of the trees, Minseok felt much lighter.

He wandered for a while, deeper into the woods, listening to the low bird calls and scuffles of the squirrels. He hadn’t bought any music to listen to with him, usually having his Ipod, so instead he hummed to himself. He sang a little on the end of the lines, under his breath, feeling self conscious even in his solitude. The song was something melancholy that Minseok didn’t know the name of. He, the boy, had been singing it last week and Minseok liked the choruses. _There is no such thing as, time will solve everything, the feel-good comfort of saying it’ll slowly get better, honestly, it doesn’t relate to me._ He wondered if the boy had written the song and if he had, then why the lyrics were so lonely.

**xoxo**

It was three days later that Minseok was given the opportunity to speak to Chanyeol. For once, Minseok had ventured down to the practise rooms on a weekday, in search of the tall boy.

There were around fifty students milling around the house at any given time. Minseok had wondered why it was so few, but Jungsoo had explained that the house was an extension of a larger campus, where those specialising in music taught and were educated. It made sense there weren’t many students wanting to focus on their musical talent. Most must surely be concerned with their more academic studies. Minseok was sure he would be, if he were able to attend school.

As he walked through the lobby and down the corridor to his usual room, Minseok felt the same contradictory pull he always did around people. He yearned for contact, interaction, conversation, excitement, wanting so much to introduce himself to the teenagers milling around. Yet, as he passed them, the muscles in his shoulders tensed and his eyes fixed themselves on the floor. His heart raced and he felt as if someone even looked at him, that he might faint.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun had talked about their schedules before, lamenting that they didn’t have their classes at similar times, so Minseok knew that Chanyeol should have his guitar lesson around now. He wasn’t certain what rooms they might be in but, Minseok was familiar with most of the house and didn’t think it would take long to find it.

It turned out to be a lot more difficult than he imagined. It was one thing to navigate the long corridors and landings of the house when it was empty, and another entirely when the house was bustling like it was during the week. Minseok brushed shoulders with person after person and every time his heart trembled. Somehow, with students milling in the corners and opening doors, the house seemed so different. The colours on the walls seemed to brighten and the light fixings and side tables looked strange, unfamiliar.

It had been about an hour, pacing corridors and going in circles before someone tapped him on the shoulder. His chest felt tight as he turned to see a tall boy with lazy eyes and a wide smile.

“Can I help you? You look a little lost,” he chuckled. He spoke with an accent, tongue tripping on the syllables but it still sounded kind and soft, comforting.

“I’m…” Minseok hesitated, “I’m looking for a friend, he’s in a guitar lesson right now, but I can’t um, I can’t find the room.” he wished desperately, that his voice didn’t sound as unsure as he felt.

“Oh!” the boy beamed, “That’s great, I’m just heading there for my own lesson so I’d be happy to take you,” he bowed slightly, before turning motioning for Minseok to follow behind him.

“Thank you,” Minseok responded hurriedly, rushing after the boy, his longer strides making the gap between them immediately widen. Once he caught up, Minseok fell into step beside the other.

“So, who is it you’re looking for…” he looked down at Minseok, question in his eyes as he trailed off.

“Kim Minseok,” he supplied.

“I’m Zhang Yixing,” Minseok nodded and a brief silence fell. A chinese name, that explained the accent. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but Minseok could feel the weight of Yixing’s first unanswered question.

“I’m looking for Park Chanyeol,” he clarified and was surprised to hear Yixing’s responding splutter. Minseok fixed the other with a concerned stare as they walked, causing Yixing to quiet his laughter.

“Sorry, you just wouldn’t believe how often I’ve heard those words. Although, usually said by a teacher,” Yixing shook his head, his voice fond.

“You know Chanyeol?” when Minseok thought about it, he realised he shouldn’t really be surprised. With the small number of students and Yixing having his lessons at a similar time, it would have been strange if the two hadn’t met.

“Everyone knows Chanyeollie, him and Baekhyunnie make up the majority of the school’s gossip these days,” it stuck out to Minseok that Yixing’s words didn’t sound at all malicious, the affectionate nicknames soft on his lips. Minseok was curious why his friends were so often talked about, but reminded himself that it wasn’t really any of his business. He had always apored gossip anyway.

Yixing led Minseok down three more corridors, taking him to the rooms on the far left of property. Minseok was sure he had been here before and found nothing, but sure enough, as Yixing stopped beside a door with no windows in it, Minseok heard the plucking of guitar strings through the wood.

“My lesson is starting soon, but you shouldn’t have to wait long,” Yixing lowered his head politely.

“Thank you for your help,” he bowed low out of habit and he could tell Yixing was holding in a laugh. The chinese boy turned away, opening the door of the room beside Chanyeol’s and shooting Minseok a last lazy smile before he closed it behind him.

Minseok was beginning to think that all the students here were just weird by default.

He waited outside for ten more minutes, before the door opened.

“See you next week, Lee Seosangnim!” Chanyeol bowed his head and gave a mock salute as he turned towards Minseok and the door swung shut. In his school uniform, Chanyeol looked even taller. The black trousers barely covered his ankles. When he saw Minseok, he jumped in surprise.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” Minseok said in way of greeting, rubbing at the back of his neck guiltily. Chanyeol shook his head, brushing off Minseok’s apology with a smile as he stepped closer to lean against the wall beside the elder.

“Don’t be silly, just didn’t expect to see you here,” he laughed through the words, as he often did, hand placed on his chest.

“Yes, well, I didn’t really, well, expect to be here either,” Minseok knew he was stumbling. He knew he sounded unsure and unsettled. Chanyeol frowned and waited for him to continue but Minseok felt like he had already run out of words.

“So...why are you? Here, I mean.”

“Oh well, I, yeah Baekhyun asked me to talk to you and-” Minseok was cut off by Chanyeol groaning loudly in response to the name.

“Is he still pissy about the whole Jongdae thing? I told him it wasn’t like a personal thing or anything,” Chanyeol huffed and slumped back against the wall heavily. It was clear to Minseok that this whole disagreement with Baekhyun was affecting him a lot.

“I don’t think pissy is exactly the word. He’s really upset, Chanyeol.” Minseok felt more confident in his words and he spoke them clearly. Chanyeol sighed.

“I know…”

“You should probably apologise,” Minseok begins but Chanyeol turns to face him with a look that is somewhat outraged.

“He should be the one apologising to me! He’s the one who’s been ignoring me and freaking out for no reason,” Minseok was surprised that Chanyeol wasn’t stamping his foot and crossing his arms to emphasize the words.

Before Minseok could argue the point, familiar voice rung out behind him.

“Yah, Park Chanyeol, what’s taking so long!”

As Minseok turned, he had to remind himself to breathe. There, standing in the corridor, was the boy. His hair was parted to one side and pushed back as it always was when Minseok saw him, his eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses. Even though his clothes were identical to Chanyeol’s, the same school uniform, they didn’t seem so. The blue blazer with the coloured trim fit his shoulders so well that Minseok would be surprised if it wasn’t tailor made.

“Ah, sorry Jongdae,” Chanyeol sounded sheepish and Minseok let the name spin in his head. Jongdae was the boy, the boy was Jongdae. Minseok tried to get his head round it, the fact that his friends were fighting due to the boy who had become his obsession. _Not obsession! Just his interest!_

“Aish, could have texted me if you were talking to someone, I’ve been waiting for ages,” his voice came out in a whine, pitched higher than he sang. Minseok still liked the way it sounded.

“It’s only been five minutes since my lesson ended,” Chanyeol protested.

“Five minutes too long~” Jongdae singsonged in return and Minseok held back a smile. Chanyeol scoffed and gave Minseok an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Minseokkie, I’ve gotta go.” he placed a hand on Minseok’s shoulder gently. Whilst he sounded sincere in his apology, Minseok didn’t think he was unhappy to have to conversation disrupted.

Jongdae, stepped closer to the two, which is when Minseok noticed the stick in the boy’s hand.

“Minseokkie?” Jongdae asked the air, he wasn’t looking at Minseok and all at once it occurred to him that Jongdae wasn’t looking at anything.

“This is my friend, Kim Minseok.” Chanyeol said, motioning to Minseok that he should hold out his hand. When he did, Jongdae took it, fingers scrambling a little before their palms aligned. It wasn’t as if sparks ignited under Minseok’s flesh when they touched. There were not fireworks in his chest or butterflies in his stomach. Jongdae’s hand was warm, soft, slightly calloused at his fingertips.

“Kim Jongdae.” Chanyeol continued, gesturing toward the other.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Jongdae said, shaking Minseok’s hand firmly before releasing it, “I didn’t realise Chanyeol had friends.” he said with a smile. The upturn of his lips was sharp, mouth curling in at the corners. There was no deep dimple in his cheeks, like Yixing and Chanyeol, just two wrinkles bracketing the smile.

“It’s really my own mistake, I honestly didn’t know any better.” Minseok muttered, looking at his feet.

Jongdae’s laugh was enough to make him look up again.

“You’re funny.” he said and Minseok reminded himself to stay calm.

Minseok was opening his mouth to reply, when Chanyeol’s phone beeped and the taller boy swore loudly.

“Aish, my mother is waiting for us, Jongdae.” Chanyeol elbowed his friend in the side and Jongdae swatted him, before holding onto his forearm. “Sorry, gotta go, Minseok,” Minseok blinked fast, catching up.

“Bye…” he said as Chanyeol led Jongdae back down the corridor.

“It was nice meeting you~” Jongdae trilled.

Minseok was pretty sure Jongdae was teasing him. Although, he still liked the way it sounded.

**xoxo**

“Mmmph,” burying his face in his pillow to muffle his moans, Minseok arched his back.

His hand slid over his dick in fast, rough movements, the friction burning slightly from the lack of lubricant. Sweat was gathering on his forehead and on the backs of his knees, as pleasure lit sparks under his skin. His blankets were bunched up over him, the material sticking to him uncomfortably. Throwing them off, Minseok brought his hand to his mouth, spitting into it to help the glide of his fist.

Usually, Minseok would have no trouble keeping himself quiet. The most escaping, a couple of heavy breaths and the dull sounds of slicked up skin. Recently though, Minseok had felt his chest bursting with moans, whispers of a name stuck to the roof of his mouth.

“F-fuck,” the curse came out stuttered, his hand slowing, fingers teasing over the head of his cock. He could feel the orgasm simmering below the surface, as he closed his fingers around himself once again, bucking his hips upward into his hand.

Behind his closed eyelids he saw a head of black hair, a wide smile shifting into an ‘Oh’ of pleasure, the prettiest voice he ever heard twisting sounds into a cacophony of moans and pleas and- _fuck._

His orgasm caught him by surprise, cum landing on his stomach as his body pulled taught and his muscles tensed. It left him in a daze, buzzing with endorphins.

Whether or not Jongdae’s name was on his lips when he came, wasn’t important.

**xoxo**

Minseok had always known he wasn’t like his brothers. He knew that soft curves and long hair would never compare to sharp jawlines and broad shoulders. It had been years since he had come to terms with these facts. However, at the time, it had all been rather hypothetical. Minseok didn’t have friends. He couldn’t even leave home, let alone date.

Now, with Jongdae’s voice ringing in his ears, it was all seeming a lot less theoretical than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okayyyy so i know its been a month but i'm suffering and dialogue sucks and i miss description, deadass why did i even put chanbaek in this THEY TALK SO MUCH SHHHHH MINSEOKS TRYING TO INTROSPECT. legit originally minseok was gonna meet yixing in the forest but i needed that flora!!! description!!!! 
> 
> here's to my best friend Pinepitch (read her fic, it's gay) who has been waiting so long for this, love you


	4. Act Two, Part Two

Whilst Minseok dreamed, he sailed across a wide ocean. Behind him stretched every place he had ever been and before him was everything he had yet to see. The sea, lapping softly up against the edges of his boat, was clear and appeared pearlescent under the low light on the moon. Choppy and out of rhythm, the waves beat percussively on the wood and Minseok hummed. Roses, honeysuckle and orchid floated on the breeze, as Minseok sailed.

In the distance, a siren sat on a rock. The creature shone, water droplets shimmered on his skin like small diamonds, rolling tears on silver-washed water. Minseok sailed closer and the siren opened his mouth to sing. Notes, words, lines of melody fell from his lips in a stream of beautiful silk, wrapping Minseok up in moments. It spun round him, filling his head and tying him to the spot. He listened, standing there and staring at the moments of the siren’s mouth, for what felt like hours but was surely minutes. Threads ravelling around him, thin strings in hues of orange and violet, pulling his ankles together until he began to lose his balance. 

For a final moment, Minseok watched, as the siren quirked an eyebrow and smirked at him. Then he fell, forward in a dizzying rush, into the water. Cold sunk into his bones and the fabric vanished, leaving him to thrash, thrash, thrash until his limbs tired and he sank, all the way to the ocean bottom. 

**xoxo**

It had been two weeks and Chanyeol and Baekhyun were still fighting. 

“He’s being immature! He does not own me.” Chanyeol’s words sounded to the beat of a buk drum, heavy and hard. Not to mention, it was becoming a repetitive rhythm. 

“I really don’t think he believes he owns you,” Minseok tried to explain but Chanyeol rarely let him finish a sentence these days. The usually bright and carefree boy became more snappish and short-tempered with every passing day and Minseok wasn’t sure how much longer he could be the one forced to initiate and maintain conversation. 

Baekhyun wasn’t any better, repeating that he refused to talk to Chanyeol until the other apologised for his so-called ‘betrayal’. Minseok wondered if this was what teenage and young adult was always like. He had expected there to be a lot less drama in all honesty. 

Minseok’s only reprieve from playing messenger between the quarrelling friends, were the Sunday afternoons that he spent with Jongdae in the singer’s usual room. It had taken quite a lot of effort to get them. 

**xoxo**

“So, he’s a singer then?” Minseok asked tentatively. 

“Who?”

“The boy with you a few days ago.” he answered, pretending ( _very convincingly_ , he might add) not to know Jongdae’s name. 

“Oh, Jongdae? Yeah, best in the year other than-” Chanyeol cut himself off and quickly changed the subject. 

**xoxo**

“So, have you and Jongdae been friends for a while?” 

“For a few years yeah, he used to go to the same choir as me before his accident.” 

In Minseok’s opinion, that was an extremely leading statement. He didn’t ask. 

“I didn’t think you had any other friends.” Minseok teased, nudging Chanyeol in the side. The taller teen yelped loudly and pouted. It struck Minseok, not for the first time, that Chanyeol bore an unsettling resemblance to a puppy. 

“Meanie!” Chanyeol stuck his tongue out. _Definitely a puppy._ “I have plenty of friends! Jongdae and Kyungsoo…” he frowned and scrunched his forehead in thought.

“Wow~” Minseok drew out the word, “An entire two people, I’m impressed.” He chose at that moment to overlook that absence of Baekhyun’s name on that list, not wanting to start an argument. 

“Hey! And...Yixing!” He shouted, throwing his arms up in vindication. Minseok faked an impressed look although, in reality, it wasn’t like Minseok was in a position to be ridiculing Chanyeol for his small social circle. 

“Zhang Yixing?” Minseok asked, remembering the boy from last week with dimples deep enough to rival Chanyeol’s. 

“Y-yeah? How’d you know him?” 

“He helped me find your guitar lesson room the other day.” Minseok clarified, “He was nice.” 

“He’s a darling,” Chanyeol laughed, “Although I’m surprised he helped you find your way, that boy has the worst sense of direction I know.” 

_Darling._ Minseok had never heard men speak with such affection about each other before he moved here. It made him wonder if their love of music wasn’t the only thing he and his friends had in common. 

**xoxo**

“So-“

“Are you going to ask me about Jongdae?” Chanyeol interrupted. 

“What!” he said, hoping he sounded shocked. 

“Sorry,” Chanyeol chuckled. “You always ask about him so I just assumed…” 

“Yeah, well,” Minseok didn’t know what to say to that. Chanyeol was fixing him with searching look, he seemed to be considering something deeply. It was a rare look for Chanyeol, who didn’t often think before speaking as far as Minseok had observed. 

“Do you want me to give you his number or something, he’d appreciate someone to hang out with, I’m sure and since you’re always here…” he spoke slowly, avoiding Minseok’s gaze. There was something in Chanyeol’s words, a hidden meaning that Minseok couldn’t quite place. Minseok knew he was shy, knew he wasn’t able to approach others, knew he was timid. Yet, Chanyeol’s tone soothed him and before he realised it was happening, Jongdae’s number was saved into his phone and he had promised Chanyeol he would text the singer. 

**xoxo**

**New Message! Unknown Number:  
** Hello, this is Kim Minseok. Chanyeol gave me your number, hope you are well. 

**New Message! Kim Jongdae:  
** ooooh yeah!!! boy with the interesting voice!! what can I do for you? \\(★ω★)/ 

**New Message! Minseokkie:  
** Oh, right. I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime? Chanyeol’s been boasting about your singing ability and I thought it might be nice to play together. 

**New Message! Kim Jongdae:  
** sounds awesome!!! what do you play, you do lessons at the same place as us?? 

**New Message! Minseokkie:  
** Ah, no I just am staying here currently as my uncle is one of the tutors. Are you available at the weekends? I am free this Sunday? 

**New Message! Kim Jongdae:  
** that’s lucky!! sundays is when i always practise (☆▽☆)!!! 

**New Message! Minseokkie:  
** Sounds good. 

**xoxo**

Minseok clenched his teeth, shivering against the harsh wind. September was drawing to a close and it was clear autumn was beginning to establish itself. The wind was harsh, punishing, pulling open Minseok’s jacket when he tried to hold it together around himself. He and Jungsoo had been making habit of these late night walks together and he was determined not to complain about the weather in fear that Jungsoo would call them of. 

“Little cold isn’t it?” 

“No.” Minseok lied. 

Jungsoo chuckled, shaking his head as they continued to walk. 

“So, have those two friends of yours made up yet?” Jungsoo asked, a little excitably. Minseok smiled, he had leant in the last months that Jungsoo rather enjoyed gossip. The older man’s enthusiasm for teenage drama was endlessly amusing. 

“Sadly not,” said Minseok. 

“Ah, shame,” Jungsoo said, not sounding at all like it was a shame. 

The leaves didn’t look coloured at this time of night. Hidden under the boughs and taller outcrops, those that were in shadow were a blackish navy, dark ovals arranged in small groupings. Towards the tops of the trees, the leaves that were allowed moonlight looked pearlescent, reflective. 

Minseok would worry about his own silence but, his experience so far showed that Jungsoo wasn’t uncomfortable with it. Looking away from the trees either side of the path to observe the elder, Minseok saw that Jungsoo was looking up at the stars. 

It was several minutes before Jungsoo broke the silence.

“Do you believe in heaven, Minseok?” 

The air was cold in Minseok’s lungs, wind rustling the leaves and causing a cacophony in his ears. 

“No.” 

**xoxo**

The first Sunday after texting Jongdae, Minseok was waiting in the foyer. It had been days, but the words on Minseok’s phone screen were still spinning in his head. 

‘boy with the interesting voice’ _What was that even supposed to mean?_

They had agreed to meet here before going to one of the music rooms. Minseok had neglected to mention that he knew precisely which one Jongdae would be going to. He waited by the stairs, looking at the door anxiously. Minseok wanted to be sure he could see when Jongdae arrived, worried that the other boy wouldn’t see him. He wasn’t one to pry and it didn’t seem like any of his business, but Minseok was capable of putting two and two together. It was clear that Jongdae had some sort of issue with his vision. 

When Jongdae walked through the dark oak doors, Minseok had to remind himself to breathe. His hair was styled differently, curled into soft waves and parted in the middle. Dark brown lined his eyebrows, filling them in neatly. He looked older, prettier, less neat. Minseok tried desperately to convince himself that this wasn’t for him, that Jongdae’s appearance couldn’t possibly be for his benefit. 

“Jongdae-ssi,” Minseok called, making sure to alert Jongdae to his presence before walking toward him. 

“Minseokkie?” he turned his head quizzically to the left, then to the right, but his eyes didn’t follow the action. Instead, Jongdae’s eyes darted around seemingly at random. The brown irises moved from side to side in a searching manner, looking but not seeing. 

Minseok was unsure what to do once he grew close to Jongdae, before he remembered the way Chanyeol had held his arm during their last meeting. He gently touched his forearm to Jongdae’s side, hoping that he didn’t startle him. Jongdae’s smile widened at the touch, hand coming up to grip Minseok’s sleeve. 

“Thanks,” he said, quietly. 

“Which room?” Minseok asked, not knowing how best to respond to the thanks. 

“I can’t remember the name.” Jongdae frowned. “I know the number of steps though!” he smiled with every atom in his body. Minseok found himself blinded momentarily. 

Jongdae walked with confidence, leading Minseok down the side hallway. Minseok worried for him, watching closely for any obstacles in their path, but Jongdae clearly already new the placement of every side table and cabinet, avoiding them with ease. In that moment, Minseok made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t underestimate Jongdae’s abilities. It was something he was far too familiar with himself. 

“It’s here!” Jongdae announced brightly, opening the door to the room that Minseok was more than familiar with (well, he was familiar with the door and hallway directly outside at least). The two entered the room and Jongdae released his hold on Minseok, walking over to the piano and sitting on the bench. 

Minseok was struck by the sight. He had seen Jongdae sat at that bench every week over the last few months. He was familiar with the posture in which Jongdae sat, the way his chest billowed when he breathed, when he sang. Now, he was inside the room and Jongdae was turned to him questioningly. 

“You play?” he asked, cracking his knuckles. Minseok would have usually found such habits irritating and a little vulgar. He only found it endearing, now. 

“Yeah,” he answered and prayed he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt. 

Jongdae just smiled and patted the remaining space on the bench. Minseok hesitated, before following Jongdae’s path and sitting beside him. 

**xoxo**

“Holy fuck, Hyung, this is practically an obsession!” 

Minseok knew that letting Baekhyun see his room was a mistake. The younger’s exclamation upon entering, only served to prove him right. 

“It’s not an obsession,” he retorted. “I just like them is all.” 

In the months since Minseok’s arrival, the plant collection that Jungsoo had curated had only grown (both in size and number). Minseok had found several wild flowers in the ground that he liked, bringing them back and potting them. His room looked a little jungle-like now, pots on the floor lined the room’s walls. The stacking shelf that had previously looked neat and organised, was now overflowing. 

Baekhyun fixed him with a disbelieving look, walking toward the shelves to examine the flowers and succulents there. Minseok sighed, sitting on his bed. Baekhyun seemed amused, looking through the forest of fauna that Minseok cared for. Minseok was about to scold Baekhyun again for teasing him when Baekhyun’s face suddenly fell.

“They’re pretty,” he said, softly, looking at tall plant with yellow flowers. 

“That’s Yellow Acacia,” Minseok clarified. 

“Do they grow in Korea?” 

“They can, but not usually,” he pondered for a moment, trying to remember the origin of the plant. “I think they’re native to Africa, need a hot climate to flourish.”

“Oh.” Minseok couldn’t see Baekhyun’s face well from this angle, but there was a sadness recognisable in his voice. Sadness was not an emotion Minseok was familiar with seeing in the younger boy. 

“Have you seen it before?” he asked. 

“It was in a bouquet that-“ Baekhyun paused, taking a breath. “That someone gave to me.” 

A silence came as Baekhyun considered the plant and Minseok shifted uncomfortably. If his memory served, then he thought he could hazard a guess at who gave Baekhyun that bouquet. 

“Do you know what they mean?” he asked, going to his desk to pick up his haggard copy of ‘The Language of Flowers’. 

“No…” Baekhyun turned to face him. 

Flipping through the book quickly, Minseok found the page he was looking for. He scanned the text to confirm his thoughts before closing the book again. 

“Yellow Acacia symbolises friendship, all yellow blooms usually do,” he began, seeing the sadness in Baekhyun’s eyes deepen instantly. “But, they can also be used to represent secret romance and forbidden love.” Baekhyun’s eyes widened. 

“I thought…I just thought they were pretty,” he said. 

“Maybe whoever gave them to you thought so too, there’s a possibility they didn’t know the meaning,” Minseok offered, giving Baekhyun an out. 

“No, he- I mean, they wouldn’t not know.” 

Minseok chose to ignore Baekhyun’s slip. 

Outside, a couple of birds kept flitting in and out of the tree tops, chasing each other. They weren’t that far from the house and Minseok could faintly hear them calling to each other. When he was younger, he had found the call of birds to be shrill and irritating. These most recent years, he quite liked the way it sounded, lonely, sometimes, or in a soaring chorus. It sounded like freedom. 

“Sorry, I-“ Baekhyun wrapped his hands around himself, looking at his feet. It made Minseok want to hug him. “I have to go.” he said in a near whisper and Minseok watched as he rushed towards the door. 

It slammed loudly behind him. Minseok simply hoped that he had done the right thing. 

**xoxo**

“Fuck, fuck, ugh.”

Minseok seemed to find himself in this position a lot more than he used to. Of course, teenage boys aren't known for their abstinence from mastubation but, Minseok swore it didn’t use to be like this. The uptick in his libido may have been caused by spending time in the immediate proximity of Kim Jongdae. He tried not to dwell on it. 

“Mmmph! he muffled himself with his spare hand, flexing his legs as he pumped himself. His head growing fuzzy as the black haired boy in his fantasies, began to place kisses on his neck. 

Another thing that was causing Minseok’s sexual urges to increase was simply the way in which Jongdae texted him. After their first meeting, Jongdae had quickly established himself as a frequent and enthusiastic texter. 

**New Message! Jongdae:  
** why do you never sing during our jam seshs!?!?! I bet hyung sounds soooo good!!!!

**New Message! Minseok Hyung (≧◡≦):  
** Thank you, but I’m afraid not. 

**New Message! Jongdae:  
** wae!!! but hyung gets to hear me sing! how is that fairrrr (〃＞＿＜;〃)

**New Message! Minseok Hyung (≧◡≦):  
** My apologies.

**New Message! Jongdae:  
** hahahaha (^_−)☆ it’s okay

**New Message! Jongdae:  
** gotta go!!~ mum’s calling me to shower but i’ll see you tomorrow!!! o(>ω<)o

**New Message! Jongdae:  
** goodnight hyung (－ω－) zzZ

Minseok had wanted to reply but the image of Jongdae in the shower had given him a more pressing task. One that he was currently completing. 

Alternating the speed, Minseok stroked himself firmly. The sensation gave him goosebumps of pleasure. His orgasm was already simmering under his skin, the image of water-slicked skin and bare chests going straight to his cock. 

Groaning, he wondered how much better he would feel with wet, tight lips wrapped around his dick instead of his own hand. 

“Jongdae, ah-“ Minseok bit down harshly, punishing himself for the slip. It was already creepy enough to think about a friend whilst he touched himself. Moaning their name was a step too far. 

With the image of Jongdae sat on his knees for him, Minseok came hard over his hand and onto his stomach. As the buzz faded, Minseok felt the shame fill him again, the disappointment. 

He cleaned himself up efficiently, wiping his skin off with a wet wipe and grimacing at the sensation. The room had felt hot, stifling in the midst of his previous pleasure but quickly became cold. Laying back, Minseok allowed the chill air to sink through his skin and into his bones. 

He shivered and drifted off, knowing that nothing he dreamt of would ever become a reality. 

**xoxo**

“It’s been a while, Minseok-ssi,” Dr. Choi greeted him, motioning toward the seat across from himself to encourage Minseok to sit. 

That morning, Jungsoo had informed him that his father had scheduled a check-up to ensure that Minseok’s condition wasn’t worsening. He had been surprised, not quite believing his father would have thought of him even once since he had left. Regardless, he had sat in the back of the crank-up, old car his uncle owned and allowed himself to be driven to the clinic. 

The medical facility was unfamiliar. Minseok squinted as they entered, the bright lights and white walls almost blinding him. During his childhood, his doctor had always visited their house for his physicals. He understood why people said that hospitals made them nervous or unsettled, feeling an aura of sickness surround him. Here, he felt as sick as he truly was and he hated the feeling. 

“You moved in with your uncle three months ago, correct?” 

Minseok had to think. _Had it really been three months?_ The calendar hanging behind Dr. Choi showed the date as the 2nd of November. He was taken aback, it felt like only days since he had left his old home. 

“Yes,” he answered, beginning the monotonous stream of ‘yes or no’ questions that doctors always asked. 

“Have you seen any change to your condition during this time?” 

“No.”

“Have you been taking your medication properly and regularly?”

“Yes.” _No._

“Do you have anything else you’d like to bring up?” 

“No.” _Just his general aches and pains, the stabbing ones in his chest and the nausea he felt in the early mornings._

“Well, let me just take a quick look at your vitals and fill your prescriptions before you go.” Dr Choi smiled widely, pulling out his pad and filling the three usual scripts. 

_Iron supplements. Digoxin. Buspirone._

The list used to be a lot longer, when he was seven and had continued heart palpitations that left him breathless. When his muscles were often so weak and his constitution so impaired that he couldn’t get through the day without fainting. 

Minseok remembered when he was twelve and kept hyperventilating whenever something out trouble or frustrating. His doctor at the time hadn’t been able to identify the cause and quickly dismissed his mother’s suggestion that it could have been mental. Minseok could see it in his head, Kim Seongmi demanding to know how she could help her son, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she screamed at anyone who would deny her. After fighting tooth and nail, she had found a doctor who understood mental illness and Minseok had been prescribed his first anti-anxiety, Klonopin. It hadn’t gone well. 

It was during the last two years that he had started Buspirone, the drug that had finally treated him correctly. 

 

**xoxo**

Minseok was pretty sure that Jongdae’s laugh was the prettiest sound on earth. 

It didn’t have much data to compare it with, of course, but he was certain it was true. The younger boy laughed in a way that seemed to light Minseok’s body on fire. Like sticky honey, the sound enveloped him in warmth. A yellow heat in his chest.

It was when Minseok knew that he was the cause for Jongdae’s laughter, that the yellow flames flashed brightly and became golden. 

**xoxo**

_“Minseok, be careful!”_

_“I’m fine, Eomma~”_

_“As long as you don’t fall…”_

_“I promise I won’t.”_

**xoxo**

“What colour is your hair?” 

Jongdae was splayed out across the sofa, head hanging off the side. His shirt was rucked up, revealing a strip of stomach, tan skin. Minseok made a conscious effort to focus. 

“Black.” he chuckled. “Do I seem like the type to dye my hair?” Jongdae seemed to consider it. Cocking his head slightly, even going so far as to tap his forehead thoughfully. 

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed. 

“Yeah, I’m not like you,” Minseok teased. 

“Wae! Hyung!” Jongdae crossed his arms and pouted. He had cut his hair last week, dyeing it a light brown. The first time Minseok had seen it, he nearly choked on his spit. 

Jongdae huffed. He turned on his side, twisting his clothes to reveal an extra inch of abdomen. 

_Lord, have mercy._  

**xoxo**

When he had first met Chanyeol, Minseok didn’t anticipate himself couching behind a sofa with the taller boy’s hand clasped tightly over his mouth. 

“You are dead, Park!” 

The low voice of Do Kyungsoo cut the air like the crack of a whip, the promise of vindication and vengeance in his words. It had been approximately fifteen minutes before that Chanyeol had first introduced him to the other. Kyungsoo was shorter than even Minseok, with owlish eyes and attractive features. He was polite and well-mannered. Minseok had liked talking to the boy and would have continued the conversation if not for Chanyeol abruptly grabbing his arm and tugging him away whilst cursing loudly. Unfortunately, Chanyeol’s clumsiness meant that his spare arm flew out and knocked Kyungsoo in the chest, hard enough to push him to the floor. 

“I swear to god, Park Chanyeol! You better hope that I don’t fucking find you!” Kyungsoo sounded closer now, passing outside the door of the practise room they were hiding in. 

Minseok finally came to his senses after he’s gone, wrenching Chanyeol’s hand from his face and scowling at him. 

“Why are we hiding!” he demanded. Chanyeol looked white with fear. 

“Do you not hear him!” he hissed back. “He’s gonna kill us if he finds us!” 

“Why us! THIS SHOULDN’T INVOLVE ME!” Minseok practically yelled and Chanyeol scrambled to quite him. 

“Oh my gosh, just shut up!” 

It wasn’t until twenty minutes of hiding later, that Minseok asked himself why Chanyeol had wanted to pull him away from Kyungsoo in the first place. As they finally ducked out of the room, Minseok distantly heard the telltale sound of Baekhyun’s laughter. 

Chanyeol flinched.

**xoxo**

The heat of Jongdae’s side against his, felt like pure comfort when Minseok sat beside him at the piano. Four hands on a piano and music that was slightly out of time, Minseok couldn’t help put liken it to the moments of colour spent in his garden, his mother at his side. When Jongdae sang, it never failed to be more experience than sound. A lungful of culture, dance, spices that melted on his lips and stuck to the roof of Minseok’s mouth. Voice like blooming petal and deep purple, only for the mornings, only in the dawn. 

For the first time in so long, Minseok longed to allow his own voice to join the other. He wanted to feel the hoarse scratch that the notes left down the back of his throat. Something sticky and impermanent and satisfying. Music was a smoke that never seemed to leave his lungs. One that couldn't effect his chest but never failed to stop his heart. 

His heart, now that he considered it, was beating a mile a minute. Just like that, his fingers skittered, stumbled on the keys, stopping the flow of music.

“Hyung are you-?” 

Minseok couldn’t hear, his breath was short and his hands were shaking. He scrambled for the tin in the pocket of his jeans but his fingers fumbled. Through the haze, he felt a hand on his knee, warm and urgent. The touch centred him and he breathed in deep, focusing on pulling the tin out of his pocket, opening it and putting the pill into his mouth. 

“Minseok! Minseok, what’s wrong, you're not breathing!” Jongdae was shaking him, voice thick with fear. 

As the seconds passed, the black spots in Minseok’s vision faded and his heart rate finally began to calm. Jongdae’s hands were still on him, one around his thigh and one gripping his shoulder. 

“Y-yes, sorry,” he stuttered, head still spinning and unclear. “I’m okay,” clearer this time, he looked up and met Jongdae’s eyes. In that moment, Minseok couldn’t believe that Jongdae wasn’t looking, that his eyes weren’t searching his own, that he couldn’t see Minseok’s own. He felt guilty for even thinking it mattered, for considering it at all. He focused on Jongdae’s lips instead, moving, forming words. 

“Hyung! What happened?” he demanded. Minseok held in a sigh. 

He was out of practise in explaining these things and he always hated doing it. Health was something treasured and cultivated in Korea, despite the modern era of medicine, people still were suspicious of negative energies and placed a lot of stock ing herbal remedies. Minseok knew several of his aunts always had avoided him, believing his presence would somehow cause them to catch terminal illness. He imagined it must have been the same for Jongdae though. Looking at the boy, words stuck to his tongue, Minseok realised how similar they were. Despite Jongdae’s loudness and extroverted personality, he was more than a little broken, cracked and shattered in the places he should be pristine, just like Minseok. 

“I’m fine,” he assured, “I just, sometimes struggle, is all, uh, with…yeah.” 

G _reat job, that’s not at all confusing or unclear._

“Seriously, what happened, Minseok?” Jongdae looked shaken and Minseok suddenly realised how scared he must have been, not able to see Minseok, just listen as his breathing stopped. 

“I have a heart condition,” he said, quickly. 

“You…what?” 

“I have a heart condition,” Minseok sighed. “Also a drastically low white blood cell count, a crappy immune system, anaemia and, from what I’ve been told, a nervous disposition.” 

Jongdae didn’t say anything and Minseok felt cold. He closed his eyes, seeing all his fears projected there against the black. 

_Jongdae throwing things at him. Jongdae hating Minseok, because why wouldn’t he. Broken Minseok. Weak Minseok. Useless Minseok._

_Minseok who was nothing but a burden, nothing but bad luck to anyone that touched him._

“Is it serious? Like, you’re not dying, right?” 

The scene shattered and Minseok opened his eyes to see Jongdae, his Jongdae, still holding his Minseok’s thigh and pouring concern into his words. Minseok hadn’t cried since his mother’s funeral. He wanted to right now. 

“I’m not dying, Dae,” Minseok assured and saw as Jongdae’s shoulders instantly relaxed. 

“Oh, thank god. What the hell, Minseok, you scared me?” the concern was gone from Jongdae’s voice, replaced by the familiar whining tone that Minseok was more than familiar with. “Why not tell me?” he demanded and Minseok sighed. 

“It’s not really something I like to talk about, please don’t feel insulted,” Minseok explained imploringly. 

“No, I understand, it’s not really a conversation starter,” he released his gip on Minseok’s thigh, hugging himself instead. Minseok felt guilty and full of longing. Jongdae rarely looked as serious as this and Minseok wanted to hold the younger boy. 

“I’m guessing you don’t like to talk about your…” Minseok trailed off. 

“Yeah, I- I don’t,” Jongdae looked uncomfortable and Minseok felt worse than ever. 

The silence dragged on, this new awkwardness that the two hadn’t often felt together. 

Finally, Jongdae spoke. 

“You’re not weak, Minseok. This doesn’t- I do not think you are weak.” Jongdae annunciated each word clearly and plainly. He turned his head to Minseok, his eyes shining with sincerity. 

Minseok suddenly felt glad for Jongdae’s lack of sight, meaning that he didn’t see as Minseok leaned forward slightly, aiming for Jongdae’s lips. 

It was for the best that he pulled back. _A kiss would have probably stopped his heart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the second minseok self-love scene but he's a teenage boy and jongdae is pretty hot okay! honestly this fic is my baby and I'm so sorry for the angst and pining and introspective descriptive passages. but still i hope you enjoy 
> 
> p.s. @pinepitch is a junhui stan, pls help spread the news

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i can't believe i'm writing this


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